I know the peices fit.
by OneOfTwo
Summary: Ahhh, here's another Nuriko-death fic for you. But this time it's a song-romance fic ^^' It's based on Tool's Schism and it basiclaly goes on about Nuriko's regret's and thoughts partaining to Miaka. If your a Tamahome x Miaka fan, you might not like be.


Disclaimer: Well, I really don't own any of the characters that I'm using for this piece of writing. So I'll say that Nuriko, Miaka, and everyone else that's not as important all belong to Yuu Watase and the Fushigi Crew ^-^;; And the song that I'm using is 'Schism' by Tool. Depressing, isn't it?   
  
Also~~~If you don't like alternate pairings from the whole 'Tamahome x Miaka' outlook, then don't read this. Because it's -all- Nuriko, baby! ::Cackles:: and resumes the song fic.  
  
  
"I know the pieces fit.."  
  
  
The air.. it was so cold now. On the lone passing of a mountain.. faintly dazzled in an array of blood, sat within the snow a young man. Nearly stripped fully of his clothing and his life. Yet, he was still pursuing his role, his -mission- to be a warrior of Suzaku. He was born to serve the Miko. And that was what he had finally done. Though, at first.. he didn't see it that way.   
  
At first life is always simple when you are a child. Born under a decent family and two other siblings. Loving parents and other surrounding relatives. Who would have possibly though the trampling of a horse's hooves could ruin everything? The sight of blood, the deafening cry of a sister's last sounds.. that alone would drive the simplicity out of one's life. And it surely did for Nuriko. There was only one real solution to this, he had to become what was already dead. And what should have passed.  
  
"Because I watched them fall away.."  
  
Girls, there was no real consideration around it. The female race had their own way about acting, and the male race had their own way of behavior. But now.. everything was going to be different. There would be no 'line' between the two.. as if one person took a hold of it and smudged each against one another. Nuriko knew not of what he was doing when a child. All that he knew is that he was going to bring his sister back. It was an illusion, a terrible one as he took out his sister's clothes and tried them on. He even chose to put the makeup and matching accessories. He would -be- his sister if she would not come back to him, and everyone should love it. They didn't. All that he had was torn down.. his parents in a rage, the rest of his family taken aback and yet trying to change him.. convert him back to the boy he once was. No, he wasn't going to conform. He would carry out his mission to do what 'Korin' would want to do.  
  
  
"Mildewed and smoldering, fundamental differing.."  
  
  
And what did she want him to do? The young man nearly chuckled in his lack of pretense as he crumpled against the snow somewhat.. reddened hands falling downwards to make handprints. The Sun.. was unnaturally bright, it only made him shun further. Back to the past.  
  
She wanted him.. to love. To find the perfect lover that -she- would want. He spent his growing years finding the suitable 'one' that she may wish to have. And he did find the perfect suitor. A young emperor that ruled over most of this country. Hotohori. He was deliberate, kind to his people.. and as beautiful as any other woman. He would be perfect.. if only-  
  
'If only.. he weren't so arrogant.' The young man thought passively as pale violet-pink eyes winced and fell closed. His breathing was growing harder as the minutes passed, and yet his thoughts pressed on.   
  
Hotohori, to say in the least, had an image problem. He was prone to his vanity and all that weren't as beautiful as he would only be disregarded. He, himself was waiting for his perfect counterpart to become his empress. Nuriko himself.. he believed that Korin's own deathly will would be enough to give him the strength. And the convincing skills to make Hotohori love him -back-. Because if she wanted him enough, then Nuriko would want him as much too. It was a horrible obsession, and it only got worse when the person Hotohori was waiting for, finally came.  
  
'Miaka..'   
  
  
"Pure intention juxtaposed will set two lovers souls in motion.."  
  
  
Jealousy, hatred, envy and spite. These were emotions that this young man wished he could take back if he had a choice. Why.. he felt so bitter against -His- Suzaku no Miko seems to strike him dumbfounded now that he pondered on it. Perhaps it was because she was the one that cut his time short then. For he no longer had any more time to convince his highness of loving him. And his sister's for-seen love would all be for naught.   
  
'To think I.. almost ruined Tamahome and Miaka..' His thoughts lingered as his lips parted in a vapor lingering wheeze, but he managed to smile strangely enough as well. '..Or.. maybe I just helped them along.'  
  
Was he a fool? He didn't know. All he knew then was that Miaka was a threat, and that he had to do anything in his power to stop her. Get her -away- from his sister's wishes. So what exactly did he accomplish? He managed to hang about a teal haired man named Tamahome. He was the one that first saw Miaka, and he wasn't blind to the fickle feelings they held for one another. So he only stirred up trouble by managing constant wishes of attention, holding, and even a kiss. These alone set Miaka up in a tizzy, and eventually pulled her away from Hotohori. That was what he wanted, wasn't it?  
  
  
"Disintegrating as it goes testing our communication.."  
  
  
Still.. that wasn't good enough. She may have liked Tamahome and even yelled out her love to him before giving way to being sick one time. But it didn't stop his anger towards her. She was Naïve, pensive, and.. well.. a glutton as well. All of these things were quality feelings a commoner would have and that -no- Emperor should hold a liking too. And yet.. he would see Hotohori lingering to his love for her, despite all odds that things were not meant to be. It was painful.. for Nuriko. Everything he did, was for nothing.   
  
'And to think.. I never wanted her as a friend.'   
  
And earring, and a bargain. Along with a few brisk slaps and a secret only she was supposed to know. He was a member of the Suzaku, and there was nothing he could do about it. He must conform to his fate, despite his sister's wishes. And yet, he did not go along with it without a fight. He led the poor girl down a trek of meaningless missions, only to be rewarded by the girl's unfolding interest of friendship. It was as if she wasn't even a priestess, it was as if she were recruiting new best buddies.  
  
The light that fueled our fire then has burned a hole between us so..  
  
'Why did I love you..?' He thought as his eyes grew distant and forced his eyes to look upwards to the light once again, as if begging the heavens for a distant answer. And yet, all that struck him was the rock blocking the doorway before him. "…Gotta move that rock."  
  
Was it because of the constant separation between him and Hotohori? Or was it the growing attention the girl held for him. She took Korin's place as time went on.. as Nuriko found that whatever 'she' wanted.. was what Miaka wanted. And as time grew on, he found himself acting more like a man then he could have ever thought was possible. Was he beginning to conform to society? Allowing his own mind and body to think for itself? No.. it was her. She was the one encouraging him.. as he did for her. There wouldn't be a time where he didn't offer advice that she needed, or an act to be done. Tamahome problems? He always leant and opened ear. And yet, as the problems and the growing stress of being a warrior of Suzaku grew.. his mind was growing weary. What love did he have? He loved every single one of his friends now.. and yet, he always wanted more. But now.. he wasn't looking for Korin anymore.. he was looking for himself, as a man.  
  
  
"We cannot see to reach an end.. crippling our communication."  
  
  
It was then the young man had dragged himself to his feet and pulled himself against the massive rock. 'Please.. give me strength..' he thought as his eyes clenched closed and a crimson light beamed out from all ends of the bracelets he held on his wrists. They were bracers now.. and enhancing what power he had left. However, as the young man's face strained, his thoughts still continued, ' If I never had.. tried to.. play that trick on her.. I never would have done what I did.'  
  
The cave, it was cold and damp.. and the worry of one of the Suzaku warrior's was held into place. Tamahome being struck by lighting and the fear of everyone catching a cold was in place. A fire was put up, and clothing was stripped away. He didn't know what he was doing when his temper flared at the Suzaku priestess. She was being stubborn as always, there should have been no reason for him to care for her wearing a sopping wet outfit or not. And yet, all he did was lunge at her, rip the clothing from her body and set it aside. Deprived.. such spontaneous actions were beginning to worry him. And yet.. he pushed at it.   
  
The blush on her face made things almost irrevocably convincing. Maybe.. she was having second thoughts? Or perhaps it was just the embarrassment of being nearly nude and the life of her lover was in the balance of Chichiri finding them. Nuriko wasn't thinking on that. He just wanted his game to go further, as it to see her reaction. He did the same with Hotohori, and yet, nothing ever got this far. His Highness didn't allow it. And yet, Miaka only looked pensive as he held her chin and arched her face up to his. This was what -he- wanted to do.. to kiss and love her, and in dire wishes to be loved back. But he saw the distant look in her eyes as he stared. She didn't love him, and that pain alone crippled him. He couldn't go on, neither in actions or words. What could he do? Take it all back.   
  
He laughed.   
  
  
"I know the pieces fit because I watched them tumble down.."  
  
  
There was a reaction that Nuriko had thought would come about in the priestess, though not of such an extent that she showed. Anger, of course. He played a terrible prank on her as he always would do. And yet, her yells were focused and her face only got redder. Was she.. having second thoughts? To say in the least, his laughing didn't last for very long.. and eyes remained in watching her. She was angry over something that didn't even happen.. or what she just flustered? So many questions.. would Korin be mad if the same trick was played on her ? Now, he didn't blame Miaka for being mad.. and only wished to apologize. But before he did have much of a chance to say anything at all, a stirring occurred in the sleeping man across the cave.  
  
"Tamahome!"  
  
That word will strike him to the end of time.  
  
  
"No fault, none to blame it.. doesn't mean I don't desire..  
to point the finger, blame the other, watch the temple topple over.."  
  
There had to be a reason why that teal haired man was so special. He was strong, he was witty, he enjoyed money and enjoyed protecting children. He was the person that everyone would have second thoughts on. Whether good or bad. Never the less, he was the prime jewel in Miaka's eyes.  
  
Nuriko's gaze had darkened on instant. There were so many things suddenly spurring up inside of him then. If Tamahome didn't exist.. then there would be more of an opening for him to love Miaka. But, would things have possibly turned out that way had he never been here? No.. Hotohori would have gathered her up in his arms.. and the violet haired warrior would still be fiddling in feminine garments and stabbing over his loneliness. He had to deal with what was now and nothing else.   
  
He had to accept Miaka and Tamahome.  
  
Once returning to their journey, he saw the two cuddling among the tree's after he had revealed where Tamahome's location was to the brunette. Why did he do it? Why was he being so nice? Before he did anything he wanted to remove Miaka from Hotohori.. and yet now.. he could not have the courage to even dare to separate these two. He couldn't even do something -he- wanted to do. Because Korin wouldn't have liked it if some other man she didn't love intruded on her life, trying to pull her away from the one she wanted to spend her life with.   
  
And yet.. he could never truly understand why he was always left with the girl while the Ogre crested warrior would go out and do his own thing. It only made things more difficult for Nuriko. If he was going to be her lover -he- should be the one protecting her.. Shouldn't he?  
  
"To bring the pieces back together, rediscover communication..  
The poetry that comes from the squaring off between,  
And the circling is worth it.  
Finding beauty in the dissonance."  
  
Was it fate that wanted them apart? Or did they want them to be together? It was so very hard to think or possibly even guess on as the attack of Ashtarie had begun. The wolven man was a beast that took up time and thought. It killed, it shed blood, and it wanted to devour the person he was beginning to love most. He would not allow it to happen.  
  
'I.. sure did show him.' The young man's thoughts held as the rock was just finally beginning to budge. Though amongst all his fantasies of what the future could be. The Past still haunted him.  
  
He didn't let the creature even lay a hand on his beloved. He took blows and issued perfect tact to drive it away. He was, a 'hero', one that Miaka didn't think was possible inside of him. It was as if, she expected him to be less then a Suzaku warrior, but only a friend that kept her company. The ongoing cycle of doubt held onto him, but the pain and her sudden concern for his wound kept him from thinking on anything for too long. For he own face kept his mind at ease, and her circular irises kept him on looking and distant.  
  
'She always was.. pretty for a Tomboy.'  
  
"There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away.  
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting..  
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of a second-guessing..  
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication.."  
  
It was finally starting to move upwards. And with a deafening scream the young man had pulled the boulder upward into the air.. the snow making his grip slippery, but he would not let go. He would not fail his priestess, he would keep on going, just so he could keep on watching over her. Wouldn't he..?  
  
Pained memories inclined with his own physical injury then.. as the image of himself and Miaka sat underneath the monument of Genbu appeared. They talked of his injury at first.. whether or not he was okay. And things gradually progressed. Him cutting his hair. There was a point for him to doing it. Everyone was harping on his femininity.. to such a point he didn't want to be who he was. He didn't want to be Korin anymore. And as well, his own actions screamed out to his Suzaku no Miko. He wanted her to know he was a -man-. One of capable of loving any other girl in this world.   
  
His Highness Hotohori was mentioned as well by the girl. And that only made the moment more awkward. She still thought of him as being sassy, and girlish. And from then he made up a turn of another 'game'. Though this one was more straightforward. He even had the courage to say she was the reason why he was becoming a man. But.. the finally words pertaining to 'I love you' never came. He knew by the closeness of their bodies.. to the blush in her cheeks, that if he did say something, all that he ever worked for. All of her happiness that he -wanted- her to have.. would he ruined. It was.. so hard to go back on his words, and his feelings, even as she pressured on. He wouldn't give away what she already had. For he would not know if she would be happy with him. It seemed that no matter what any other male on this planet did.. it was only Tamahome that she saw.  
  
Gods, he was lucky.   
  
"Cold silence has a tendency to atrophy any sense of compassion.."  
  
An endless thud had touched the vast amount of snow around the bloodied Nuriko. He had accomplished his task finally. And now, he could rest easy knowing that he did what Miaka wanted him to. There was nothing else now.. and the distant silence of the mountains only left his head to tilt upwards once again. The sky.. it was illuminated by some sort of celestial glow. Or perhaps he was just simply hallucinating. He didn't regret what he did. And he didn't feel any more sense of belonging. Miaka wanted to stay with Tamahome, and he agreed to a distant love. It was his fault that all this had happened, and he had to live with it. Or.. die.   
  
'..Is that.. you.. Korin..?'   
  
"Between supposed lovers.."  
  
He hated her at first, and only grew to enjoy her presence as a friend.  
  
"Nuriko!" Was.. that her..? His head was only turned away from the presence of his own sister. He didn't want to die completely. There was still so much to do. And yet, he was being beckoned, to join his sibling and have the love he always wanted. Not to be alone.   
  
But he loved Miaka.  
  
"Between supposed brothers.."  
  
"Nuriko!" Another voice. Tamahome. Did they spend the quality time that they were supposed to? Or did they spend it worrying about him? The pale hues of pink and orange shimmered then as he wanted to cry and yet did not have the energy. He saw them both running from the endless pool of white, straight for him.   
  
He was nothing but a brother to Miaka.. at least that's how he knows things are now. They will always be that way, and his distant pain and isolation will only grow worse. Maybe it would be better if he did go. It was then he forced a smile never the less. He loved them. Both of them in different ways. And he loved that they were going to happy.. even if he was sacrificing his own.   
  
His body was growing faint.. and soon the wind that blew against him was too much.. and his eyes fell shut. It was as if Korin swooped down to take him away then.. his body tilting back and blood dancing in the air as he descended. There was nothing left to do.. he was getting tired, and Mistukake wasn't with them. And yet.. as he fell.. he saw one thing..   
  
"And I know the pieces fit."  
  
Somewhere, in the distant depths of his fantasies.. he saw himself and her, joined by hands as one. It was an image that was perfect.. no wrong colors, and no wrong shades. The dazzling cores of ivy held in the background on the new and old buildings that kept behind him and her. Each of them were smiling genuinely and their love exceeded from the views of the picture.  
  
And then.. he hit the snowy ground a messy uptake of blood, and the picture..  
  
..Shattered. 


End file.
